


In a Sentimental Nude

by cleromancy



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Community: got_exchange, M/M, Skinny Dipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-07
Updated: 2014-11-07
Packaged: 2018-02-24 11:57:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2580629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleromancy/pseuds/cleromancy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theon and Robb go skinny dipping.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In a Sentimental Nude

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of got_exchange for LJ user di_jun, who doesn't appear to have an AO3 account. The prompt was, "A ship taking a bath. Not necessarily smut. It can be cute, funny, etc. It can also be a lake, the ocean, you get the idea.” 
> 
> Smiler is a female 3-legged greyhound be...cause. That and many other headcanons in this fic are shared with @Smilingalwayssmiling on tumblr/AO3. Other titles I considered were “Nude Swings,” “The Nude Network,” and “This Isn’t a Nude Beach, Put Your Clothes Back On Right This Instant Young Man.” HUGE thanks to Praxyn for extensive beta work. 
> 
> Warnings for alcohol, nudity, crass humor, reference to abuse. Robb is 19 years old but still in high school.

The gorge is quiet when Theon pulls up under a cluster of trees, right before the grass gives way to rocky sand. Before Theon can even put it into park, Robb throws himself out the door, whooping, and hurtles toward the shore. Grey Wind and Smiler clamber eagerly into the front seat and rocket after him. They catch up to Robb easily, swarming him and barking, loud and joyful.

Theon opens his door and ambles toward the noisy cluster of dogs and boy, the dogs howling with glee as Robb giggles and talks nonsense at them. "Yes, dogs, yes! We're at the beach! Yes! Yes, I'm excited too!" In the confusion, Robb overbalances, landing on his ass in the sand, and the dogs descend upon him to lick his face. 

"Alright there?" Theon calls.

"I'm being attacked by dogs!" Robb shouts. "Save me, Theon. You're my only ho—aaauuugh." 

Grey Wind licks Robb directly across the mouth. With a comically disgusted expression, Robb pushes Grey Wind's head away and sits up, wiping his hand across his face. Grey Wind immediately tries to lick Robb’s mouth again and Robb groans, holding him at arm’s length.

"If you're done letting the dogs get to first base," Theon says, "I seem to recall that we came here to swim." 

"Frenching is first base?" Robb asks.

"Yeah," says Theon. "Frenching, groping, oral, sex." 

"Oral _is_ sex." 

"Not really." 

"It's right there in the name. It's called _oral sex_." 

"Fuck off," says Theon amiably. "You know what I meant." 

Robb makes a noise of disagreement, blowing air through his pursed lips like a horse. He pushes himself to his feet and Grey Wind, bored without a face to lick, lopes off to the shore after Smiler. 

"Whatever, kid," says Theon. "When you're not in high school, sex-baseball stops being relevant." 

"I'm graduating in two months!”

Theon grins. "So I have two months left to lord it over you." 

"Jerk.” 

Theon's smile widens and Robb coughs, looking away. "We going to swim or what?" mumbles Robb.

"That _was_ the plan," says Theon. He tugs his shirt off over the back of his head. "Hey, Robb." 

"Yeah?" 

"No one's around but us." 

Robb fidgets with the hem of the shirt he's still wearing. "So?" 

"So, why are we bothering with trunks?" 

"We—" Robb says, and stops. "Uh." 

"Exactly," says Theon in satisfaction. "We should go skinny dipping." 

"Why—" Robb says, cutting off when his voice cracks. 

"Jesus, Robb. How old are you again?" 

"Shut up!" Robb says. He stands up and yanks his shirt off, throwing it on the ground with no small amount of defiance, but then, with his jeans still on, he hesitates.

Theon laughs. "Come on. Unless you're scared." 

"I said _shut up_ ," Robb growls. 

"Make me.”

Hands on his hips, Robb glares at Theon for a long moment. Then he grumbles under his breath, kicks off his shoes and pushes down his jeans. He glances furtively at Theon again when he's down to his swimsuit and before Theon can open his mouth to accuse him of cowardice, he pulls them off.

"You too," Robb says, and Theon raises his eyes back to Robb's red face.

"Hmmm," says Theon thoughtfully. "Nah, I don't think so." 

Robb's mouth falls open. "I—you—wh—Theon!" 

Cackling, Theon dodges backwards, but he's not fast enough to avoid being tackled by a very indignant, very naked boy. They land in the sand and the dogs, hearing the commotion, come running back from the water to join the game, barking wildly. 

"Aaaghhh," Robb says, rolling off Theon before the dogs attack. 

Still laughing, Theon props himself up on his elbows to watch Robb narrowly avoid getting stepped on by two excited dogs. Robb's broad back is to Theon and as Robb fends off the dogs Theon takes in the indent of his spine, the movements of his shoulderblades, the flex of the muscle clearly visible as he moves. 

"Hey, Robb," calls Theon. "You should put on some sunscreen so your dick doesn’t get sunburned.” 

"Shut up," Robb says, craning his neck to look at Theon. "I'm putting my swimsuit back on." 

"Oh, please," says Theon. "I was just fucking with you."

Robb _hmphs_.

Theon pushes himself up off of the ground and stretches, arching his back. Robb follows the movement with his eyes and subtly—for Robb—angles himself for a better view. Tamping down on a smirk, Theon unbuttons his jeans, going as slowly as he can without making it obvious that he's putting on a show.

Watching Robb watch him hasn’t lost its novelty. After spending years fruitlessly sneaking glances at Robb, it’s gratifying that Robb’s suddenly noticed how attractive Theon is. Robb's not in love with him—Theon’s not under any illusions—but Robb does _look_ at him, does _want_ him, and it’s very satisfying being just out of his reach. 

Eventually Robb manages to drag his eyes back up to Theon's, and Theon gives him a long, slow smile. Robb's face flushes lobster-red and he looks down at Grey Wind's head, twining his fingers in his fur.

"Robb," Theon murmurs, and Robb looks up. 

Theon holds his gaze for a minute and then grins. "Race you to the water." 

Before Robb has the chance to get up, Theon shoots off. Robb shouts "Hey!" Smiler yips gleefully and chases after him, outstripping him easily; even without looking back, Theon can tell that Robb's following, but unlike Smiler, Robb has no chance of catching up.

Smiler leaps into the water first, splashing everywhere with graceless doggy glee, and Theon slices into the water and dives under as soon as he can to put distance between him and the shore. Robb's definitely going to try and dunk him at some point and Theon has no intention of letting him. It's all a matter of not letting Robb catch up, which is easy; he's faster than Robb on land and twice that in the water. 

Theon resurfaces a good forty feet from the shore and turns to see Robb wading into the water, Grey Wind at his side. Smiler turns around to paddle back to Grey Wind, her tail wagging and making ripples spread on the top of the water.

"You're such an ass," Robb calls. He hasn't waded in deep enough yet for the water to cover his waist so Theon takes advantage of the view. It reminds Theon that he can never say with any kind of accuracy that Robb doesn’t have the balls for something, because Jesus, look at those things. 

"You're just mad because you lost," Theon says.

"Because you _cheated._ " 

"What was that?" Theon says. "It sounded like something a loser would say." 

"You did cheat," says Robb. "You're just a big... cheater." 

"I won," says Theon. "Here in the real world, people cheat, and that's why we win. Nice guys finish last. That's you, Robb. You're the nice guy. You finished last. Because you're nice." 

Robb splutters. "I am not!" 

"You're like the nicest guy I know," says Theon, backing up a little further. The water is deep enough that his toes barely touch the rocky floor of the bay with his head still above the surface. 

"I'm not nice," says Robb. "I'm tough and cool." 

"Hmmmmm," says Theon.

"I'm mean," adds Robb. "I kick puppies for fun and steal candy from babies and win all the time." 

"Citation needed," says Theon. 

"I'll make you, like, a bibliography," says Robb. "In MLA format." 

"Oh, that’s mean," says Theon. "Cruel, even." 

"Yeah, see?" says Robb. "I'm mean. Mean as heck. I make my best friends read bibliographies." 

"Best friend _s_?" Theon asks.

"I'm gonna make Jon do it too," says Robb. 

Theon sneers. "Jon's not your best friend. He's your brother." _Half-brother,_ he thinks, but doesn’t say.

"He's both," says Robb. "Grey Wind's my best friend too, but he can't read. Don't tell him I told you. He's self-conscious about it." 

Rolling his eyes, Theon swims forward a little. "So I rate on the same level as your brother and your dog?" 

"Yup," says Robb, who has finally gotten chest-deep in the water. "All my favorite peeps." 

"Grey Wind is a dog," Theon says flatly. "I'm not sure Jon's completely human, either." No one knows who Jon’s mother is. She could have easily been an alien from a planet where moping is a competitive sport.

Robb swims toward him. He swims like his dog, graceless and completely uncaring. "Be nice," he says. 

"Nice guys finish last, remember?" says Theon. "Also, make me." 

"Kay," says Robb, and in one quick movement he kicks Theon's legs out from under him and pushes Theon's shoulders down, dunking him decisively under the water. 

Theon splutters, barely managing to avoid snorting water up his nose. He scrabbles at Robb's arms to pull himself back up above water. _It’s your own fault,_ a little voice in his head says. _You knew Robb would do it and you still let your guard down._

No. It’s Robb’s fault. Robb’s fault for making him let his guard down. Fucking Robb. He has a way of doing that.

"You fucker," Theon gasps, digging his nails into Robb's flesh. "You absolute—you fucking—you—!" 

Robb's practically howling with laughter. "I told you I wasn't nice." 

"Shithead," Theon says, shoving Robb. 

Robb sways back slightly but doesn't lose his balance or stop laughing.

Theon pushes his dripping hair back out of his face. "Fucker." 

"You love me," says Robb, and Theon, with the ease of long practice, doesn't flinch. 

"Whatever," says Theon noncommittally. 

He dips under the water and blows a bubbly sigh out through his mouth. He doesn't feel like swimming anymore. Without coming back up for air, he swims breaststroke back to the shore until the water is too shallow to swim and he has to stand up. 

The dogs have already gotten out of the water. They’re both lying stretched out in the sand, soaking in sunlight. Theon crosses to the pile of clothes and then decides, a little viciously, not to put anything back on. Let Robb watch him if he likes. Robb doesn't want what Theon wants, but Robb still wants, and if Theon can't have what he wants then Robb can’t either. 

Instead, Theon heads to the truck, pulling out the cooler, a towel, and his sunglasses. He considers getting the sunscreen out but as far as he's concerned, Robb can deal with the inevitable sunburn. Theon himself doesn't burn; it’s the one good thing he's gotten from his Greyjoy blood.

Back on the sand, Theon spreads the towel out and opens the cooler. Out of the corner of his eye he can see Robb wading back in from the water, using his hand like a visor to shield the sun. Theon ignores him, sitting on the towel and cracking open a strawberry daiquiri-flavored wine cooler. 

"Are you mad because I dunked you?" Robb asks, coming up to sit on the towel behind Theon. "I was just messing around." 

"Whatever," Theon says again, but he shifts sideways so his back isn't to Robb.

Robb peeks over into the cooler. "Did you bring any Capri Sun?" 

"What?" Theon says. "No, of course not. You're nineteen, dude, you're a little old for juice boxes." 

"Okay, first of all, it's a juice pouch," says Robb. "And second of all, there is no age restriction on flavor." 

"You're a dork." 

"And third of all,” Robb says, continuing as if Theon hadn’t said anything, “if drinking a juice pouch and/or box is wrong, I don't want to be right. Give me juice or give me death." 

"Shut up and drink your lemonade," says Theon.

He reaches into the cooler to hand Robb one of the Mike's Hard Lemonades that Robb likes so much. Robb makes an unhappy noise but drinks, perking up a little when he does.

"Better than a juicebox?" Theon prompts.

"Nothing is better than a juicebox," says Robb, but he takes another sip.

Apparently having finally noticed the picnic, Grey Wind trots over to sniff the cooler inquisitively.

"Nuh-uh," Theon says, closing the cooler. "Not for dogs." 

"Is there something in there we can give him?" Robb asks. 

"Not unless you want to give him your sandwich." 

"Sorry, buddy," says Robb to Grey Wind, genuinely apologetic. "No snacks for puppies." 

Grey Wind huffs, dropping down onto the towel next to Robb. Robb makes a little _awww_ noise. Theon rolls his eyes and takes his Ray-Bans out of their case.

He glances at Robb after he puts them on. Robb was there when Theon shoplifted them, but he didn’t notice until Theon took them out on the car ride home. He got overly upset about it and made Theon promise to take them back. 

Theon leans back his hands, curling his toes in the sand. Robb still doesn't know that all his birthday presents from Theon from before Theon was old enough to be legally employed were shoplifted. Theon has no intention of telling him because, knowing Robb, he'd get all weird and guilty about it. He might try to take seven year old birthday presents back to the store or freak out about eating stolen candy that can't be returned.

It's a little funny that Robb never put it together. He knew Theon’s family was broke and he knew Theon didn't earn anything mowing lawns or babysitting, even if Theon never told Robb _why_ , that it's hard to motivate yourself to do odd jobs when your father has a history of stealing money from your room and hitting you when you confront him. It never seemed to occur to Robb, who'd had a steady allowance since the fifth grade, that money would be completely inaccessible to Theon. 

"Hey," says Robb. "Dare me to jump off that cliff into the gorge." 

"What cliff?" 

Robb points to a ledge near the very top. "That one." 

"You'll die.” 

"Will not." 

"You will," says Theon. "And then everyone will know you got wasted on—" He glances at Robb's drink. "—half of a Mike's Hard Lemonade and died jumping off a cliff in your drunken delusion of invincibility." 

"You know I love it when you talk all fancy," says Robb. "But I'm still gonna do it." 

"'Here Lies Robb,'" Theon says. "'Got underage drunk and jumped off a cliff like a total asshole.'" 

"Good thing my mom definitely won't let you write my gravestone.”

"She will. I'll seduce her to get the rights." 

"Oh, gross.” 

Theon's pretty sure Robb doesn't know how serious he is about Mrs. Stark being a MILF, but he doesn't actually have any plans to tell him besides singing _Sansa's mom has got it going on_ whenever he feels like annoying Robb. 

"Just jump off the one over there," Theon says, pointing to a significantly lower ledge that juts out farther than the one Robb chose. "Then you'll only _probably_ die, instead of definitely." 

"Hmm," says Robb. "Better odds. But how will I maintain my reputation as a roguish daredevil?" 

Theon rolls his eyes. "Your reputation is the guy that drinks one beer, takes off all his clothes, and rolls around in poison ivy." 

"That was one time!" 

"Once is enough." 

"Says you. Watch me do a flip off that cliff." 

"You're doing a flip now?" asks Theon. "You just went from ‘will probably die' to 'will definitely die' again." 

But then, maybe Robb would survive and wind up bellyflopping into the bay. That'd be worth watching. Better not tell him that, though. He might do it on purpose.

"I could totally do a flip and not die," Robb argues. 

"Do a cannonball," Theon says. "That's the best thing to do from high up, anyway. Biggest splash." 

"I do love big splashes," Robb says. "Okay, cannonball off the lower ledge like a wimp, fine." 

"Come back with your shield or on it," says Theon.

Robb flips him off and gets to his feet. He looks at the swim trunks in a pile on the sand, visibly considering putting them on, and instead walks right past them. Theon raises his eyebrows. Brave man. 

As Robb disappears into the woods that lead to the cliffs, Grey Wind gets up off of the towel to follow him and Theon shakes his head. A dog on a cliff someone’s about to leap off of is a bad idea. 

"Grey Wind, come here," he calls. "Come lie down. Lie down. _Lie down._ Lie—good boy. Good dog." 

Smiler finally gets her lazy ass up from the sand to trot over and lick at Theon's ear. 

"Oh my God, you're so desperate," Theon tells her. "Throwing yourself at me won't get you anywhere. Try playing hard to get sometime."

Smiler tries to lick his ear again, and Theon sighs and pats the towel next to him. 

"No one ever listens to my advice," he says as Smiler lies down, panting happily. 

Theon looks up at the cliff, watching for Robb to show up, assuming he doesn't get mauled by a bear on his way. He seems to be taking his sweet time. Maybe he ran into a tourist or something on his way. Theon grins, imagining some poor old lady's face when full-frontal nude Robb came out of the bushes. His balls might be enough to make her faint. 

Just as Theon's wondering if anyone's told Robb how disproportionately large his nuts are, Robb emerges on the cliff, looking around until he sees Theon down below. Theon gives him a twiddly little wave and Robb salutes, then backs up and takes a running leap off of the cliff and into the water, clutching his knees to his chest, hollering. 

The dogs, hearing Robb's ludicrous half-yodeling shriek, shoot up from their places on Theon's towel and sprint towards him, barking. From Theon's spot on the sand, Robb looks mostly like a white blob hurtling towards the water. The splash is fairly impressive, enough so that when Robb's head emerges, curls dark and straight from the water, Theon gives him a sardonic little golf clap.

Robb throws up his hands in triumph, which makes him dip slightly under the surface of the water again. Theon rolls his eyes. Next time he falls in hopeless, unrequited love, he should pick someone who isn't such a dork. 

Grey Wind swims out to meet Robb, turning around once he does so they make their way back to the shore together, both of them doggypaddling. Robb does know how to actually swim—Theon taught Robb when he was twelve and Theon was fourteen—he just doesn't actually care _how_ he swims unless he's racing someone. As a consequence, he always loses.

"Theon, my ass hurts," Robb calls from the water. 

"What was that?" Theon asks, putting his hand to his ear.

"My ass hurts," Robb calls, louder this time.

Theon pantomimes not hearing, squinting his eyes more and turning his head so his ear faces Robb instead of to the side.

"I SAID MY ASS HURTS," Robb shouts.

"What?" Theon says, even though Robb is at the very edge of the water.

Robb, apparently realizing Theon was having him on, rolls his eyes. He doesn’t say anything again until he flops down on the towel next to Theon.

"I said, ‘You're an asshole.’"

"I don't think that was actually what you said," Theon says innocently, getting two bottles out from the cooler. 

Robb squints at him. "Are you twelve?" 

"Whatever, you jumped off a cliff and now your ass is bright red," says Theon. "You have no place to criticize me." 

"It wasn't a criticism," Robb says. "Also, you were looking at my ass?" 

Theon shrugs, avoiding Robb's eyes subtly by looking at the space between his eyebrows instead. "It's hard to miss when it's lit up like a Christmas tree." 

"Like a window during Hannukkah," Robb corrects him.

"Fine, okay, your ass is lit up like a window during Hannukkah." 

That wins a smile from Robb, wide and beatific, and another little shard of ice in Theon's chest melts. He looks away before Robb can see his face crumple. 

"Hey, you brought peanut butter cookies?" Robb asks, pulling out a bag of cookies with Hershey’s Kisses stuck in the middle. "Dude! Awesome." 

"I didn't make them or anything," Theon says. "Sansa gave me a couple before she hid them from you." 

"She _hid_ them?" Robb asks. 

"No one trusts you around those cookies, dude," says Theon. "Your self-control goes out the window. She made them for a bake sale." 

"What? I'm super trustworthy," insists Robb through the two cookies he'd shoved in his mouth at once, belying his words.

Theon gives him a long, skeptical look, and Robb meets his eyes for a minute, still chewing, and then eventually drops his gaze. 

"Okay, Jeez," says Robb. "But like, they're really delicious though, so no one can blame me for it." 

"Uh huh.” 

Robb huffs and eats the last cookie, somehow managing to be defiant while doing exactly what Theon expected him to do. 

"I'm gonna go back into the water," says Theon. 

"You'll get cramps," says Robb, licking his thumb. Theon doesn't watch him do it, doesn't wonder why that action is so much more erotic than Robb's nudity. 

"That's an urban legend, and also, I don't care," Theon says, taking off his Ray-Bans and giving Smiler one last pat on the head before getting up.

For all that it's a hot day in spring, the water is cold enough to be brisk. Theon swims out freestyle until he gets about chest deep, then turns on his back and floats, staring up at the sky. 

There aren't many clouds today but the sky isn't the rich sapphire blue it gets on really nice days; it looks washed out, like it's given up on being vibrant and is sticking to pale until it has a good reason to pretty itself up again. Theon imagines himself telling the sky to respect itself more, that feeling blue is no excuse for failing to be blue, and laughs at himself a little. 

There's a tug at his foot. Theon stops floating, letting himself stand up straight in the water, looking at Robb with an eyebrow raised.

"Are you mad at me?" Robb asks. 

"What?" Theon says. "No. Why?" 

Robb looks down, letting his fingers make tiny ripples in the water. "You seem like you're mad." 

"I'm not.”

"Then why do you keep avoiding me?" 

Frowning, Theon tries to work out what Robb means by that. "We hang out all the time," Theon says. "We're hanging out right now." 

"But you do it when we're hanging out," Robb says, bringing one hand up out of the water to tug at his own hair. "You back away and shut down. It never used to be like that." 

"I don't," says Theon sharply. "I'm not shutting down." 

Robb's face falls even further. "I—okay," he mumbles. "Do you want to just go home?" 

"No," Theon says quietly, suddenly feeling guilty. "We don't have to go anywhere." 

"Okay," Robb says. 

Back on the shore, the dogs have come to stand at the edge of the water, cooling off. Theon and Robb watch them for a moment. When Theon turns back, though, he finds Robb isn’t watching the dogs, but watching Theon, instead.

"What's up, kid?" Theon asks him. 

Robb huffs. "Don't call me kid." 

"Sure, kid," says Theon. 

With an offended noise, Robb splashes Theon. Theon ducks ineffectively out of the way, sending a splash back at Robb. It turns into a short splash fight until Theon ducks under the surface, swimming twenty feet away before Robb figures out what happened. 

When Theon pops back up out of the water, Robb hasn't made a move to chase after him. For some reason, it’s oddly disappointing. 

"I won't splash you anymore if you don't call me kid," Robb calls. 

"Or I could just keep calling you 'kid' and swimming away," says Theon. “Kid.” 

Robb laughs half-heartedly. "Yeah, I guess you could," he says, strangely defeated and, to Theon's surprise, instead of swimming after him, Robb heads back to the shore. 

Confused, Theon watches Robb swim back, averting his eyes when Robb shows signs of turning around. He looks down through the clear water to the floor of the gorge. It gets rockier the further out you swim, up until a point where the rocks all disappear; where Theon's standing the floor is less a floor and more a carpet of pebbles.

Theon stays where he is for a while, and then glances up at Robb, back on the beach. He's petting Grey Wind and talking quietly to him. A tight feeling twists in Theon's chest and he takes a deep breath to diffuse it. He wishes he could hear what Robb was saying. Knowing Robb, it’s most likely, "Yeah buddy, you're a good dog, you're such a good boy look at your fuzzy face. I'm going to kiss your head," but Theon has a hard time believing it. 

Sinking in the water until his nose and mouth are under the surface, Theon sighs a long sigh, and then swims back to shore. 

When Theon's back on the beach, Robb looks up at him inquisitively. He looks lighter again, like whatever he was talking about in the water never happened. Robb's like that sometimes, going unexpectedly serious for a while before reverting back to cheerful and easy-going. This time it unsettles Theon slightly and, for some reason, makes him want to put his clothes back on. 

Theon sits down next to Robb. He could ask Robb what he meant, and Robb would probably tell him, but Theon's not sure actually he wants to know. 

As if he can hear what Theon's thinking, Robb speaks up. "You have walls with other people," he says. "You never used to put them up around me. But ever since..." 

"Ever since...?" Theon prompts automatically, even though the more Robb talks, the more he's certain that he doesn't want to hear whatever Robb has to say.

"Was it just me?" Robb asks.

Theon blinks. "Was _what_ just you." 

Reddening, Robb looks down at his lap. "This..." he says. "I thought... it changed?" 

"What changed?" Theon says, bemused.

"The way we acted with each other. It was... I thought it was... Wasn't it flirting?" Robb blurts out.

Theon gapes at him. 

"I thought," Robb says, twisting his hands, "I thought we were finally going to do something, or _be_ something, but you keep pushing me away whenever I get too close, and if I can't have... I don't want to lose..." 

He trails off. Theon bites his lip to avoid asking what Robb wants to avoid losing.

"Sorry," Robb says thickly. He pushes himself up. "I just misread this whole thing." 

Before Theon knows what he's doing, he snatches Robb's hand and holds tight. For a second, he looks at their joined hands, his heart stuttering, and then he looks up to Robb's face.

"Theon," Robb says. "Don't play with me." 

"I'm not playing with you," Theon says hoarsely. "Just sit down, okay?" 

Slowly, Robb lowers himself back to the ground, and Theon lets go of his hand and puts it back in his lap. He curses himself for suggesting skinnydipping: of all the conversations Theon doesn't want to have naked, this probably tops the list.

"I've been in love with you since I was twelve," Robb says and Theon whips his head around so fast he hears something crack. 

"I... Robb..." 

"I guess you had to know, someday," says Robb with an unhappy laugh. "I just didn't think it'd be today." 

"Robb… You didn't... you're _not_ in love with me." 

"Denying something doesn't actually make it go away," says Robb. "Believe me, I've tried." 

Theon shakes his head. "No, you're _not_ in love with me." 

"Actually, I think we need to have this conversation before we can pretend it never happened," says Robb bitterly. 

"No," says Theon, his voice too high. "That's not what I meant. You weren't in love with me, you're not in love with me, you've never been in love with me, you're just lying to get me to admit I've always been in love with you so you can lie to me and get me to touch your dick—" 

"What?" Robb says. "What?!" 

"I saw you looking, and you're not in love with me," Theon says wildly. "You can't—I knew you were looking, so I teased you, because you weren't in love with me. You couldn't have—if I couldn't have—what are you doing?" 

But Theon can see and feel what Robb's doing, his big hand coming up to cup Theon's cheek, slowly bringing their faces together so that he can lean his forehead against Theon's.

"I am in love with you," Robb says gently, "and you are being a big doofus right now." 

"I—" Theon says. He wants to jerk away from Robb's touch, but his body is frozen in place, all his muscles clenched so tightly that he feels as though he'll snap.

"A really, really big doofus," Robb murmurs.

Theon exhales, closing his eyes so Robb stops blurring before them. He breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth and forces himself to do it again, and again. And Robb is still touching his face, and he can feel Robb's nose brushing the side of his and Robb's breath against his mouth. 

"If you're lying to me, I'll never forgive you," Theon croaks.

"It's me, Theon. I'd never do that to you. You know that." 

"Why are you so _good_?" Theon asks. "Why are you _perfect_?" 

"I'm not, really," says Robb. "You're just... not used to decent people." 

Robb's wrong, he's so wrong, he's innocent and naive and doesn't know his family is an anomaly in a sea of horrible people waiting to fuck him over. But if Robb's influence has ever changed Theon at all then Robb can change anyone, can turn the most crooked and cruel person into a model of honor and nobility, but Theon will never tell him so, because Robb doesn't know that without him Theon would have been a really fucking bad person; Theon doesn't ever want him to know that. 

"You're shaking," Robb says. 

Theon hadn't noticed. 

Robb exhales slowly. "Can I kiss you?" 

Words dry up in Theon's mouth like dust. He nods slightly, his head bumping against Robb's lightly as he does.

He waits, his breath caught in his chest like fish in a net, but Robb doesn't move much more, just barely closer. Theon's hands come up to clutch at Robb's shoulders. 

"Please," Theon whispers. 

It's enough for Robb to finally cave and close the space between them. His mouth is warm and salty and soft, and his hand cards gently through Theon's hair. Sparks fizzle in Theon's belly, his skin hot in every place Robb's touching him. He can't breathe. He feels dizzy, displaced, dazed. 

Slowly, Robb pulls back. Theon's eyes slide open to see Robb looking at him with worry warring with questions in his eyes. 

Theon exhales and looks to the side. Grey Wind is still there, sleeping peacefully, and when Theon glances over his shoulder, he sees Smiler sniffing around the edge of the shore. They have no idea what just happened, or what it meant, or that Theon's probably dying of a heart attack because something that was never supposed to happen actually _did_. 

"Um," Robb says, laughing. "I think I want to put on clothes now." 

Theon nods. 

He gets up finds his clothes too and shakes the worst of the sand out of them—he should have left them in the car, he shouldn't have dropped them on the ground, he _likes_ this shirt—and slips into his swimsuit and t-shirt. 

Theon glances over at Robb, who looks away too late for Theon to miss that he was watching. Chest seizing again, Theon averts his eyes. Robb didn't put his jeans back on, so Theon won't either, and he sits back down limply on the towel in the sand and rummaging blindly in the cooler. 

Smiler comes trotting up from the shore again, sniffing Grey Wind casually before sitting down next to Theon and yawning. Robb, now in swim trunks but no shirt, sits down next to Theon.

"Are you going to open that?" Robb asks Theon, gesturing at the bottle he's holding loosely in his hands.

"Are you going to start jawing about DUIs?" Theon asks on automatic.

Robb smiles. "Not if you let me drive." 

"Not on your life," Theon says. 

Robb sighs, put-upon, but doesn’t seem to have anything else to say. In the ensuing silence, Theon twists the top off of the bottle he'd grabbed at random, which turns out to be lemonade; he takes a long gulp and turns to find Robb watching him, but this time Robb doesn’t look away. 

“I’ve told you a thousand times, I can’t get drunk on one drink an hour,” Theon says, his voice only slightly too tight.

Robb nods. “Do you want to go home?” he asks. 

Theon looks back up at the single wispy cloud left in the sky and shrugs. He takes another gulp of lemonade. It’s a little sharp and tingles down his throat and Theon has a flash of sense memory of Robb’s mouth on his, and swallows again, shaking his head to clear it. 

“Theon,” Robb says quietly.

Theon can’t quite meet his eyes, but he comes close enough that Robb continues. 

“If I was right,” Robb says, “and we were going to be something—does that mean we _are_ something now?” 

Theon’s heart has relocated itself firmly to his throat. He takes a long swig of his lemonade to buy himself some time. 

"I don't know," Theon says finally. "What do you want?" 

"I want to be a thing," Robb says immediately. "Like a real thing, really together, and go on dates and stuff." 

"I..." Theon says, trailing off. He wanted a lot of things, most of which he couldn’t voice without having a lot more to drink. 

Moving slowly, Robb leans his shoulder against Theon's. "I want to be with you," he says. "Are you scared?" 

Theon bristles. "No." 

"Do you not want to be with me?" Robb asks. 

"I want..." Theon says, and then, quieter, he mumbles, "I do want to." 

Robb rests his head on Theon's shoulder. His hair is curly again, only slightly damp now, and it’s soft against Theon's cheek. 

"So what’s the problem?" Robb asks. 

"I just don't—" Theon says. "I don't want to fuck it up with you, okay? That would be—" unbearable "—it would suck. So..." 

"Theon," Robb says softly, and Theon looks down at him. He looks trusting, vulnerable, and Theon isn't sure whether he wants to shove him away or kiss him again. He settles on leaning his head carefully against Robb's. 

"It would be a mistake not to try," Robb says. "Yeah, something might go wrong. But I want to be with you and you want to be with me. If we don't try... isn't that worse than screwing it up later?" 

_It hurts more to lose something after you've had it_ , Theon thinks. But Robb wouldn't know that because he's never lost anything, not anything that mattered. If they broke up, Theon wouldn't be there for Robb to help him put himself back together.

Theon wants it so badly that his chest aches. He wants to wake up with Robb, to come home to him, maybe even to get a dog with him. His throat is tight and his pulse is racing, but despite everything, there's a part of him saying that everything's okay as long as Robb is there. And that’s the problem, really: if Theon lost Robb, he doesn't know what he'd do. 

But Robb’s telling Theon that he can _have_ him, have what he’s wanted for years and never thought he could have. He could have him, or he might somehow resist and keep their relationship purely platonic despite knowing they could be together for real.

Theon swallows. "We can try." 

Robb exhales what must be all the air in his lungs, his whole body slumping in relief. "Oh, thank God," he says. 

"Wow," Theon says. "You really wanted to date me, didn't you." 

"I really did," Robb says. "Do. So. Good thing we're dating now. Right?" 

He looks up at Theon anxiously and Theon considers waiting awhile to make him sweat, but he doesn't really have it in him after this rollercoaster of an afternoon.

"Yes, Robb," he says with exaggerated patience. "We're dating." 

"Dope," says Robb, nuzzling Theon's shoulder. 

They stay at the beach for another hour; Robb demands it to be sure Theon's up for driving, all the while insisting that if Theon let Robb drive it’d be fine. The dogs are sad to leave and Theon’s sad to have wet sandy dogs on his backseat but they put Robb's unused towel down under them so it doesn’t get _too_ gross. Theon drives Robb home. Before Robb gets out, he hesitates for a long moment, fidgeting and avoiding Theon’s eyes until Theon huffs and turns Robb's face to his for a kiss. After that, Robb stumbles a little on his way out of the car and flips Theon off when he laughs at him. On the drive back to his apartment, Theon can't seem to stop smiling. 

The next day, when Theon goes to the Starks’ to pick Robb up, Robb is badly sunburnt, and Theon only feels a little guilty.


End file.
